VESSEL - Extinction Countdown 971: Pork Fat’s Doom

Yellow Hair and Fatso slunk out of the restaurant, fleeing down the street without a glance back. Fatso, half-sobered, legs trembling, was no better than Yellow Hair, whose neck was twisted, face stuck sideways.

“Damn, what luck! She’s a cop!”

“Never seen a cop that pretty!”

“No wonder her guy’s so tough—a cop’s boyfriend’s gotta be trained!”

“Forget it. Wanna hit that new Happy Babe joint for some fun?”

Fatso’s face oozed sleaze, and Yellow Hair nodded. Before they could step, Fatso froze, like he’d been stunned.

“Boss… boss…” Yellow Hair followed his gaze, his jaw dropping.

A taxi stopped curbside. A beauty with long legs, slim waist, and full figure stepped out, her fiery red hair in twin-tails, crop top and miniskirt radiating heat.

Behind her was a silver-haired girl, eight or nine, striking but less appealing to Fatso and Yellow Hair.

They shared a knowing look.

“Pork Fat” was a top thug in the city’s underbelly, tied to Hong Gang’s Stalk Hall, one of its best fighters. Stalk Hall lived off merchant disputes, keeping shops in check while blocking outside bullies. A gray-zone hustle.

But things changed. Hong Gang pulled dozens of Stalk Hall’s finest for a clash with Dragon Gate. Only Pork Fat returned alive.

That made him a star in Stalk Hall, with talk he’d be the next boss. Tall and scrawny, his real name was forgotten. His oily face was his mark—as if a stick insect drowned in an oil vat in a past life.

That day, after freeloading afternoon tea at a street café, he was bored and headed for a KTV. Stepping out, Yellow Hair crashed into him, spilling his drink.

His goons pounced. “Looking to die, punk?”

Yellow Hair whimpered, “Boss! I’m Fatso’s guy! My boss got beat bad!”

“Who’s messing around on Flood turf?” a goon snapped.

“Dunno… some pretty girl, real skilled!”

Pork Fat spoke. “Pathetic! Beaten by a woman? Fatso’s finished! …Boys, let’s see.”

“Yes, boss!”

They marched to the street. Fatso, battered, saw Pork Fat and pointed ahead with his last strength.

Pork Fat looked. There they were: a red-haired beauty and a silver-haired girl. The redhead seemed familiar, sending a chill through him.

Having survived “that big deal,” Pork Fat knew her—You Long’er, the runaway Dragon Gate heiress, wanted by Flood and Dragon Gate. Ten million alive, one million dead. A fortune.

“Boss, you want her too? She’s a spark!” a goon said.

Pork Fat glared. “Get Four. Bring some tough guys.”

“Why the trouble, boss? Just a girl—I’ll grab her!”

“Idiot. I need help for a girl? That’s You Long’er, Dragon Gate’s little miss! Her skills’d crush three or four of you!”

“What?! …Call the hall boss?”

“Moron! Wanna split ten million? That’s for us!”

The goon agreed and ran off.

Pork Fat and his crew tailed You Long’er and Vanilla, seeking the right spot. They reached the plaza’s quietest corner, where a diner barely survived for years. Pork Fat blamed its name.

Snowy Flesh Mash.

You Long’er and Vanilla lurked outside the diner’s window, scanning the few patrons.

Vanilla pointed. “Look! Uncle Shisan!”

You Long’er covered her mouth. “Shh—I’m catching that couple!”

“Not a couple! It’s Uncle Shisan and Sister Yi Qing!”

You Long’er looked closer. It was Yi Qing, not in sweats or uniform, but a dress. With light makeup, she looked twenty, not a thirty-two-year-old “old woman”!

You Long’er gritted her teeth. “No wonder I couldn’t find Ye Shisan! He’s sneaking off with Yi Qing for a secret date!”

Vanilla asked, “What’s a secret date?”

You Long’er ignored her, rolling up her sleeves. “Vanilla, wait here. I’m busting their date!”

Before Vanilla could answer, You Long’er slipped inside.

Nearby, Pork Fat’s eyes locked on You Long’er’s hips. He smacked a goon’s head, pointing at Vanilla. “Grab that girl!”

“Boss, you into kids now?”

“Damn it, you only think of that? She’s with You Long’er—probably rich or useful!”

“Got it, boss!”

As the goon left, backup arrived—ten burly thugs.

Pork Fat checked his crew. “All here? Boys, we’re getting ten million!”

“Ten million! Ten million! Ten million!”

They charged into the diner like fiends.

At the table, Ye Shisan, starving for days, gorged on his meal. Broke, so I’ll eat Yi Qing dry. That’ll show her. Across from him, the stunning Yi Qing hadn’t eaten, smiling as he stuffed his face.

“Ye Shisan, tasty?”

“You kidding? Starve you a few days, you’d eat dung!”

“Hmph, so serious. Fine, you’re cleared in the crash case. Good enough?”

“Duh! I was the victim! And that Dragon Gate Inn mess too!”

“That’s on You Long’er. I’ll question that vixen—she’s hiding stuff!”

“Question her, but don’t starve her. That’s tough.”

“Hmph, so worried about You Long’er? One night together and you’re hooked?”

Ye Shisan nearly choked. “You demoness! I don’t even know if we did anything—why’re you so obsessed?”

“Hmph, dreaming of her? She’s all lies—only a fool like you believes her!”

A furious shout came from the next booth. “Ye Shisan’s my man! If he’s not with me, what, with you, over-the-hill spinster?”

You Long’er jumped out, cursing Yi Qing, then pointing at Ye Shisan, enraged. “Ye Shisan! Missing for days, and here you are with Yi Qing! I… I’ll call the cops! You assaulted me!”

Before Ye Shisan could speak, Yi Qing calmly set her glass down. “I’m the police. Assault won’t hold… maybe molestation. Five years or detention. Want to visit Ye Shisan in jail?”

Her words stung You Long’er. Yi Qing didn’t deny the affair but made it clear: You’ve got no hold on Ye Shisan. Stay away.

You Long’er, Dragon Gate’s heiress, wasn’t used to such a rebuke. Furious, she grabbed a cup to throw, but it was gone.

She turned. A gang of burly men stood there—some in T-shirts, others in suits over tees, all thugs. Leading them was a tall, scrawny man, face oily, twirling the cup. His voice was loud.

“Ain’t this Dragon Gate’s Miss You Long’er? Care to take a ride with me?”

His men showed off machetes and bats, scaring off onlookers. The real threat was Pork Fat. His left hand held a heavy envelope, tapping the table.

A gun.